


A story in which Sherlock is amused and Mycroft is confused

by babydragon7



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babydragon7/pseuds/babydragon7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short fluffy sort of follow up to this story</p>
<p><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/325027"> A story in which Sherlock isn’t dead and John has got a pet  </a> </p>
<p>some fluff with not much plot. just Sherlock and John and Mycroft on the side</p>
            </blockquote>





	A story in which Sherlock is amused and Mycroft is confused

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed, so feel free to drop a note if you find any mistakes, I'll be happy to edit
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, do not own
> 
> Spoilers: Technically there could be some mild traces of spoilers as this is a post-reichenbach fic

It takes some time for them to get used to each other. Well, for Sherlock and Gladstone that is. John just accepts everything like a believer would, with grace and gratitude. He has everything now the man could possibly want: a friend and a dragon, so now they can make their cozy little nest and lay in it.

Sherlock is of course restless. He needs to occupy himself with something as he can’t go back to solving crimes, until certain problems are resolved. So he tries to think of “1001 thing you can do with a garden-variety dragon”.

“Can we hatch some eggs? So we only have one, so what? Is there such a thing as artificial insemination for dragons? Does it fly? I’ve only seen him crawl and climb, but surely it can fly? Can we make it? Why do we even keep it, if it’s of no use?” Sherlock inquires.

“Well", John smiles, "when you care for someone, his value is indisputable. I care for you and you’re totally of no use… Sherlock scowls… in housekeeping. At least Gladstone chased the rats away.”

It is true! Also no insects can be found in 221B anymore. It feels like all the cockroaches and flies have packed their bags and left for some new exiting warm and dragon-less place. Possibly they went to Mrs. Turner’s to bug her married ones.

“I entertain you,” Sherlock murmurs, “don’t you agree that you are well entertained?”

Gladstone watches from the fireplace mantel, where he’s made a sort of circle around the scull. One of dragon’s wings blankets the head and one eye, the tail is hanging down from the mantel. He watches the two men rub their muzzles together. Humans and their mating rituals are most peculiar.

 

Unfortunately all good things come to… Mycroft. It took a whole year and a lot of effort to clear Sherlock’s name. “Well, you’ve cleared it a bit!” Sherlock grumbles. Which means a visit from Big brother is in order (John signs, it certainly is not the Holmes he missed so terribly). And Mycroft always aims to make him feel so small (no pun intended).

But in the end it’s Mycroft, all patronizing smile and slow gestures, who is brought down a peg. Upon entrance he is a picture of calm and irritating confidence.

“Sherlock, brother dearest! And John! I believe congratulations are finally in order. Such a pleasure to see you both (John is not sure if pleasure is the exact word for what he is feeling right now). I’ve heard from Mrs. Hudson you’ve got yourself a bulldog. You’re a proper couple now, boys; with a pet in the house…”

This is a moment Gladstone chooses to show himself. He climbs down the bookshelves with a grace of… well, a dragon. It was necessary to check the upper shelf for squirrels after all! 

“John, I was wrong!” Sherlock is exited and hyper, John expects him to start jumping up-and-down any minute now. “Gladstone is indeed of greatest use! Look at Mycroft’s face!”

Mycroft looks as struck as he would be in case someone has just proclaimed rouble a new world’s major currency. But he is back to himself quickly. John has always treated Gladstone like a miracle, Sherlock tried to apply logic (and failed) to a dragon’s very existence. Mycroft treats everything and even this unusual set of events like a pragmatic would: whatever happened – happened and it’s time to face the music (and later if at all possible to execute the musicians). He leans his umbrella to the side of the chair and exhales. 

“I must admit this is the most unusual development. My surveillance team assured me, that Dr. Watson was in a possession of some kind of a dog… Do you care to elaborate?”

“Not at all” John snickers, “It’s a miracle, Mycroft” and he and Sherlock both start to giggle most obscenely. Mycroft comes to notice that Sherlock stands behind John’s chair and one of his brother’s hands is somewhat curled around doctor’s shoulder. It speaks of so much emotion, even such a cynic as Mycroft finds he is close to breathless for a second. There is love, tenderness, loyalty – things that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men can’t provide, all the money can’t buy. “This is a true miracle” he thinks. 

“Well, we will have to return to the problem later, as or right now there are more pressing matters as your quite peculiar pet. As I’ve heard, Sherlock, you plan to return to your consulting, which is most unwise course of action as we have of yet no information considering the whereabouts of Sebastian Moran…” John and Sherlock exchange looks which say “What’s this all about?” and “I tell you later”. “So” Mycroft goes on “I was thinking two or possibly three men to accompany you or Doctor Watson…”

And while Mycroft proceeds to discuss the arrangement, Sherlock is huffing and puffing and John smiling his ‘piss-off smile’, dragon manages quite discreetly to sneak up and chew on Mycroft’s umbrella. Mycroft notices the hole only when he is back to Dawning Street.


End file.
